


Purgation

by Lise



Series: Gehenna [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I'm not sorry (I'm totally sorry), Loki Does What He Wants, Loki's a goddamn mess, Manipulation, Oral Sex, Pain, Pegging, Power Dynamics, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top, but with those dynamics shot all to hell, just fucking dubious, or maybe they do hard to say, the question is who is manipulating who though, ugly interactions between people who don't like each other, woman so fucking on top though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha vs. Loki, round the third. She probably should know better. She <i>does</i> know better. But above all, Natasha's learned to live with herself.</p><p>(Or: It's not kindness. But then, of course, in a strange way, it is.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purgation

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote the first one in this series, right? To indulge myself and expurgate my sick desire for Natasha bending Loki around her little finger and a Loki who really wants to be bent but has to be made to do it. It's complicated. And then I looked at the finished product and said "you know what this needs? more porn. especially pegging." 
> 
> And then I wrote it.
> 
> With thanks to [goldperson](http://goldperson.tumblr.com) who gave this a quick looking over for me and assured me that it was not, in fact, a travesty against humanity. I worry about these things. 
> 
> But you're not here for me, you're here for the vicious, nasty porn. Go on. Have fun.

When she saw him, she put her hand on her gun again, but didn’t draw it immediately. Just looked across the room, regarding him where he stood like a slender shadow, out of place in her slightly shabby apartment. 

“I don’t remember giving you an invitation,” she said, her thumb sliding to the safety, switching it off. 

His smile flashed. “You think that I need one, Agent Romanova?” His voice was silky, smooth and perfectly calm. She reached over with her free hand and flicked on the lights. Loki looked no different than she remembered.

“You do if you don’t want five rounds in your face,” Natasha said, keeping her voice level and flat. She didn’t move her hand from her gun. “What do you want?” 

That smile again. “Perhaps I missed you.” Natasha said nothing, just waited. He dropped the smile fairly quickly but didn’t offer another answer, just watched her. 

“If you’re expecting a reprise,” she said, and then cut off as a sly smile bloomed on Loki’s face. 

“Oh, you enjoyed yourself. Do not try to tell me otherwise.” 

Natasha ignored the little curling warmth in her stomach that said _yes._ She met his gaze straight on and didn’t let her face twitch. “I can enjoy myself just as much with the toy in my underwear drawer. Lot less hassle, too. Get out.”

Loki’s head tipped slightly to the side. His smile was faint and patronizing. “Or what?” 

Calling SHIELD would be pointless. He’d be gone before they got here. Trying to shoot him probably wouldn’t do much either, even if she could get a head shot off. Natasha shrugged. “Or nothing,” she said, calmly, and let her hand slide away from her piece, shrugging out of her jacket. She turned her back on him to hang it up, even if all her instincts were screaming at her not to look away from her opponent. 

He moved fast, and silent, suddenly standing just behind her, his breath soft on the back of her neck. “And you think that will trouble me?” She didn’t let herself tense. She could just catch the faint smell of him, subtle but distinctive. (His tongue, teasing against her clit, stroking her-)

_Watch it, Tasha._

“Yeah, actually,” she said, “I think it will. Back off.” 

She almost felt his eyes narrow, his gaze on the back of her neck. “Perhaps your archer lover would be more accommodating,” he said, after a moments’ silence, and Natasha stiffened. She turned around. 

“Don’t even try,” she said softly, “to use him against me.” His eyebrows arched. 

“Why not?” he asked, almost smiling. “It’s such an effective weapon. And if I were to tell him what you-”

She moved, but not for her gun. The edge of the switchblade fit nicely against the white line of his throat. Loki stopped speaking, but didn’t pull back. He smiled at her, his eyes dark and strange. She held perfectly still. “Going to kill me, Romanova?” he murmured. His head turned slightly, pressing the blade just lightly against skin. “Go on, then.” 

“I told you I would,” she said, lowly. Something strange was going on here again. “What do you want?” she asked again. 

His eyes glittered. “If you keep failing to follow through with your threats, I may begin to wonder if you find yourself unable to finish them. How disappointing that would be.” His voice was smooth, calm. Natasha scrutinized his face, his body language. Too deliberately calm, she thought. Masking something. No surprise there. But what?

“Mmm,” she said, after a moment, “yeah. I get it.” 

Loki’s eyebrows arched delicately. “Oh? What understanding have you suddenly reached?” She dropped the knife from his neck and stepped back. 

“Why you’re here,” she said. “Why you brought up Clint.” She didn’t let her stomach twist. Control. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it? Punishment.”

Loki’s expression flickered with something too quick to identify, and then a slash of a smile. “What can I say. I’ve been so very bad.” His voice dropped almost to a drawl, and Natasha let herself smirk. 

“That’s cute.” _I’m not a weapon for you to use,_ she wanted to say but didn’t, hated how _defensive_ it sounded even in her head. “Do you really think I’m interested in being your confessor?”

“I think you want blood,” Loki said, his eyes sharp and bright. “Control. Power. With everything that’s been taken from you…”

Natasha felt cold fingers down her spine. “Do you _actually_ think I’m going to do anything for you?”

“No.” There was something disquietingly calm in Loki’s voice, in his face. “I think you’ll do it for yourself. All that ugliness inside you, Romanova. It has to go somewhere.” She could feel her heart picking up just a little, starting to pound. “Wouldn’t you like to exorcise it?” 

“On you,” she said, flatly. 

“Why not?” He spread his hands. “I should think it a tempting offer.” Another flicker, but this time Natasha could read it. Lust. No. _Need._ He watched her with an unwavering intensity that made her skin feel tight. She remembered having him on his knees, spread out under her undone, his deft fingers-

“No,” she said, with sudden certainty. He blinked. 

“—no?” he repeated, sounding faintly incredulous. 

“No,” she repeated, and stepped around him, put her leg up on the arm of the couch and started undoing the holster around her thigh. “I’m glad you heard me.” She kept a sidelong eye on him as he turned to follow her movement. 

“I heard.” He took a prowling step near her, and then stopped. “Why…”

Natasha smiled to herself, but wiped her face clean before she raised her head. “I’m hearing a lot about me,” she said. “I still haven’t heard the answer to my question.”

“Your question.” His eyes were fixed on her face with something like wariness, but under that… _need,_ she thought. _Want._ He might not know it yet, but he’d practically given himself to her on a platter. A little thrill ran through her. She let her voice drop into a slightly lower register, locked her eyes on his. _No give,_ she thought. _No mercy._ It wasn’t hard. 

“I asked what you wanted.” 

Loki’s tongue flicked out and licked his lips, very briefly. He didn’t so much as blink. “If you know my motives so well,” he started to say, and she shook her head. 

“I don’t want to play guessing games. You tell me, Loki. What are you here for?” 

She caught a movement of his hands, his right clenching into a fist and then relaxing. “Why, you, of course,” he said, and a note of mocking levity had slid into his voice. “I cannot possibly _bear-_ ”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Loki’s eyes snapped to her face and then glanced away. She could see his chest rise and fall, he was standing so still. “Go on,” she said, smoothing her voice, almost imitating that purr she remembered he could do. “Say it.” 

His teeth flashed, suddenly, not quite bared. “If you think you can mock me with impunity, Romanova, I would remind you that I can-”

“Kill me with a thought, yeah, I know,” Natasha said, and she took a step back in his direction. “But you won’t. Because you _need_ me. Because there’s no one else, is there?” She could see Loki tense, like a bowstring pulled back almost too far. Not quite to the snapping point. “Why are you here?” Oh, this felt good. This felt like revenge. It was sweeter than just blood. 

Loki’s expression twitched, twisted. “Because there is no one else,” he echoed, and the strange blend of feeling suddenly present in his voice - anger and scorn and disdain and a deep, bitter unhappiness - made her belly clench and her breathing quicken. 

“No one else to do what?” 

His eyes slid back to hers. His expression looked like he was torn between snarling rage and naked desire. “You said it, did you not? To _punish_ me. To _indulge_ my wretched, perverse desires. I _lust_ for what you would give me, Romanova, _burn_ for the privilege of your bending me to your pathetic mortal will, is _that_ what you wish to-” He cut off, suddenly. Natasha smiled, faintly, though her heart was thudding against her rib cage. 

“It’s a start.”

“You want more?” The step Loki took toward her was sharp, but he stopped quickly. His smile was sharp and vicious. “You want to hear that this very _humiliation_ stirs me, that I stand here wondering if you feel the same arousal? That I remember the exact tang of your sex on my tongue, the way your arousal smells?” The smile shifted, turned a little more toward a snarl. “I will not-”

Natasha took a step toward him, and he cut off. His body almost trembled with the tension she could see. He looked, she thought, like a cornered animal. It wasn’t a bad look on him. She was too aware of a growing throb low in her belly, warmth between her legs. _You want this,_ a small, horrified part of her observed, and she brushed it off. 

Fine. Maybe so. Did it matter? 

“I could do anything to you, couldn’t I,” Natasha said, quietly. “And you’d roll over for it and lick my hand cause that’s how bad you’ve got it. You probably _would_ let me kill you.” He watched her, unmoving again, like he was hypnotized. She moved slowly closer. “The question is, though-” she pounced, grabbed a handful of his hair and dragged his head back, put the knife back against the pulse fluttering under skin. He grabbed her wrist, hard, but not half as hard as she knew he could. “—what are you going to do for me?” 

“The satisfaction isn’t enough?” he said, voice slightly strained, but he didn’t pull against her hand, or squeeze her wrist. “My word is worthless to you. What do you want?” 

“I’ll take your word. That you don’t touch them. None of them.”

His eyes glittered. “Am I allowed to touch you?” he asked, and then did move, smooth and fast like liquid. He broke her grip like it was nothing, twisted away from her knife, swept her towards him and kissed her with the same strange gentleness she remembered, deceptive romantic sweetness. 

She brought the switchblade up and slashed it along his ribs at the same time as she hooked a leg behind his ankle and jerked. He broke away from her rather than falling, one hand going to his side, and laughed, a sharp and wild sound. “Don’t kiss me,” Natasha said, and her voice sounded suddenly harsh. She tried to smooth it. “I’m not your lover. Don’t forget that.” 

Loki’s smile was slightly fey. The chills down her spine were not wholly ones of anxiety. “I will not touch them, Natasha Romanova. That I will swear to you.” His eyes were fixed on her. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. _Dangerous game._ He pulled his hand away from his ribs.”If I’m not your lover, I have to ask…what am I?”

“Not much,” she said coolly. Her heartbeat picked up slightly, and not with fear. She’d given up wondering if there was something wrong with her a long while ago. The answer was probably yes. She lived with it. 

“So much the better.” His smile was a slash in his narrow, angular face. “But you _want,_ just the same.” 

Natasha smiled at him, not quite savagely. “I guess I’ve got a thing for seeing you unravel,” she said, watched the dance of rage and shame and desire flicker through his eyes. He took a step nearer her, graceful and almost, she thought, unconscious. The bow he swept was formal, however, his face wiped clean.

“Well, my lady? Give me your pleasure.” 

Natasha smiled thinly. “You’ve forgotten already? I don’t tell you. You _ask_ for the privilege of submitting to me.” Her body felt awash with heat. “I won’t _make_ you do anything. I want you to know that it’s all your choice.” 

For a moment, fury flared so vividly in his eyes, his whole body winding tight like a wire, that she thought he would refuse, would snap and fall on her with all the power just under the brittle shell she could manipulate. A moment later he laughed, though. “Oh,” he murmured. “You are _elegantly_ cruel.” 

“You have no idea how cruel I can be.” 

The corners of his lips tipped up, and then he took a step forward, not quite too close to her. “Let me undress you,” he said, his voice meek but his eyes too bright. “Let me feel your skin under my hands. I’ve tasted you; let me touch you, stroke your sex and slide my fingers through your slick arousal.” 

Her body throbbed. Natasha felt a surge of warmth between her legs, and held herself still, met his eyes coolly. “You first,” she said. “Strip down to your pants, or breeches, or whatever.” 

His eyes locked in hers for a moment, darkening slightly, but then he rocked back slightly and began unclasping his unfamiliar clothing, shedding a layer of leather with ease, and then the lighter tunic underneath, baring his lean, toned torso. Slightly too skinny, maybe, but she couldn’t deny… 

Natasha stepped back and brought her hand to her zipper and started to pull it down. His eyes stayed on her face as she stripped, though, only half effecting casual shamelessness. She peeled off the suit and stepped out of it. The air of her flat felt cool on the slight sheen of sweat on her skin.

She took a step toward him. “Down,” she said, simply, and he folded to his knees, head tilted back to keep meeting her eyes. “Remember,” she said, softly. “You _get_ to touch me. Because I let you.” He didn’t quite shiver, but she could see a slight glaze creep into his eyes. 

“You’ve made that clear enough.” His hands came up, rested whisper soft on her hips and slid up to her waist. She didn’t let the softness of that touch unnerve her. “Do you not feel…vulnerable, fully unclothed when I am still…”

“No,” she said easily. “I can win just as easily like this, with you. Easier, maybe. If you’re going to make this a habit I should get you one of those collars.” 

He twitched, fingers digging just a little into her flesh. “Some things I will not allow.” 

“Really,” she drawled. “Not even from me? Cause you say that, but…”

Even with his face carefully blank, she could almost see the shame and want warring in him. She wondered, if anyone had ever done this to him before, if he’d ever let anyone before her push him like this, seek out his wounds and dig her fingers in and open them wide…

“I have limits.” 

She reached out and traced the line where a collar would sit on his neck. “Challenge accepted,” she said, almost lightly, and felt him quiver like a horse with a fly. 

Loki’s hands slid in from her waist, his left thumb circling her navel almost absently. “I’d like to see you try.” Both challenge and murmured invitation, she thought, and just kept her body from responding visibly, though the coils of arousal tightened further in her stomach. 

His eyes remained on her face as his fingers traced down from her navel, then moved to her hip, both his hands bracketing her. The gentleness made her tense, his hands sliding inward and opening her labia, stroking downwards. She caught her faint “ _ah!_ ” before it could escape as his fingertip just nudged her clit. She knew he felt it, though. Felt her shudder. 

Natasha lifted her foot and braced it on his hip. “Do you _want_ to bore me?”

“Art takes time,” he murmured, but his forefinger teased more deliberately against her clit this time, a deliberate little rubbing against her in a rhythmic motion that – her hips jerked forward a little, and she felt one of those long fingers slip inside her, the others still stroking, teasing her open. She dug her heel into the top of his thigh and bit her tongue, fighting to keep her face still. 

She felt Loki’s fingers stroke inside her as his forefinger pulled away and then circled her clit, deliberately not quite touching- “Ah,” she gasped, before she could quite bite down on it, and he smirked up at her, a faint flush in his cheeks.

“Let it out,” he purred. “If it helps. You needn’t hold back for me. I can _feel_ -“

Natasha let her heel press in a little harder. “I’m not impressed yet.” 

Loki’s fingers fucked into her again, a second joining the first inside her as he tickled her clit again. Her hips arched into his hand without her intending them to do so, and he laughed, quietly, leaned in a little closer, his head angled back to look up at her. “What would your _archer_ think,” he said, voice slightly husky. “If he could see you now, if he _knew_ -”

Her stomach flipped. The shame was sudden and core-deep and unpleasant. “I told you,” she said tightly, “If you mention him again-”

She could almost hear him smile. “Do you think he’d ever forgive you?” His fingers crooked inside her, his thumb pressed up against her clitoris and she jerked. “Maybe I should just…”

“You want me to tell Thor what you’re doing?” she gasped. “You want me to mention to your _brother_ how quick you are to get on your knees for me? Or would that just turn you on more?” The sharp hiss of breath sucked in through his teeth sent a bolt of vicious satisfaction through her. “This is between you and me.”

His eyes hated her. Viciously, passionately, and with desperation underneath. His thumb flicked up and electric pleasure flooded through her. “And he’s not a part of-”

She shifted her foot from his hip, pressed down on the hard hot line of his erection, kneaded once. His voice broke off, fractured. “Remember who’s on their knees,” she said coldly. “Remember who came here begging _me._ I can take that back, just as easily.” 

“If you wanted to,” he said, and she could just hear the strain to keep his voice level. “But you _like_ it. Want it. As much as I do.” She pressed down harder with her foot and his free hand dug into her thigh, his eyes widening just a fraction as his hips pushed up into the pressure. 

Then she pulled her foot away. 

He didn’t quite swallow the sound of protest quickly enough. “You’re a nasty little creature, aren’t you,” he said, voice just touched with strain. His fingers slid out of her and he stood up, towering over her at his full height. “Full of so much cruelty.”

“It’s why you came to me, isn’t it?” She let a hand slide up his bare chest, rolled his nipple between thumb and forefinger. He twitched. “Because you know I won’t insult you by being _gentle._ ” She leaned forward and down, drew that little circle of flesh into her mouth and bit down hard. 

“Ah-” One of his hands flashed up to the back of her neck, long fingers just this side of squeezing. His hips jerked forward and she gave him her hip to rut against, bit down harder until she thought she might draw blood, and then moved. 

Loki stumbled as she slipped out of his grip and away. A little bit of a shove to put him further off balance, a sweep of her leg, and he landed hard on the floor. She planted a foot between his shoulder-blades before he could roll over. He fell still. Natasha let her heel push into his spine and watched his hands twitch against the floor. 

“Here’s the question, though,” she said, acutely aware of the pulse of arousal between her legs. “What do you want me to do to you?” She dropped to plant a knee in his back instead, leaned down a little closer. “Cause I don’t think you’re just after pain. That’s too easy.” 

His breathing still sounded hitched, slightly strained, but his voice was silky. “To be sure, I’m hardly impressed by your concept of- nnh.” She dug her nails into the nerve a little harder. He arched into the pain and she felt another pulse of heat dampen her thighs. 

“Hardly impressed,” she echoed, and let up. His shuddering exhale made her want to just-

Natasha lifted her knee from his spine and shifted, straddling his narrow waist on her knees, watched the muscles in his back tense and release, tense and release. “Are you going to try to fight me?” she said, her voice bored. “Really? You put me in charge in the first place.” 

He said something in another language, but the tone was unmistakable. She found a vulnerable place between vertebrae and pressed down with the heel of her hand until he hissed. “Call me that again,” she said, “and I will find a way to break even you. I think I could do it.” She eased up, and Loki made a harsh sound, not quite a laugh.

“Would you prefer _lover?_ ” His tongue caressed the word, made it almost a parody of itself, and the clench in her belly was not quite of disgust, something more visceral. Fury and hunger and-

She drew her nails down his back hard enough to leave red lines in the skin and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Do you want to fuck me?” she asked, lowly. “Is that it? Be my dildo for a night, something for me to use, would that be _penance_ for you?” 

His shoulders twitched, spasmed. “Nnh,” he said, and then, “—do you want it? My cock filling you, your whole body pounding to the pace I set-”

“Or I could fuck you,” she said, didn’t let her tone shift. “I asked you if you’d let me, last time. I remember how you reacted. That would be the ultimate submission, where you come from, I bet. Me bending you over and penetrating you and you knowing the whole time that you were exactly where you wanted to be, letting a _mortal woman_ own you. And I wouldn’t be gentle. I bet I could make you _scream._ ” The little sound, hastily muffled, was answer enough. Natasha grinned. “Yeah,” she said. “I kind of thought so.” Loki took a few ragged breaths. 

“I’m not your whore,” he said, and his voice had lost much of its silkiness. 

“No,” Natasha said, and drew back. “You kind of are.” She rose up and stepped back; he flipped over and moved into a crouch the moment she gave him room to do so. Natasha smiled at him, sharp and vicious like one of his, and his eyes seemed to glaze over a little more. “Clothes off. Then bedroom.”

A touch of wickedness crept back into his eyes, some of his more usual bravado. “You’re not going to watch?” 

“No,” she said, turning on her heel. “I’m not interested in a performance.”

She slipped into her bedroom and opened the dresser drawer on the right. A moment later, she heard the whisper of him padding in after her. “Bed,” she said, pulling out what she’d been looking for. She couldn’t help a little smile. “Sit. Wait. Stay.” 

The quiet huff of Loki’s laugh surprised her. She glanced over and found him already on her bed, lounging like a king, and she couldn’t help…she let her eyes run over the long, lean lines of his body. His cock already half hard and lying against his thigh. He looked good. Like he should have been carved from marble. Natasha narrowed her eyes. The better for her to smash. 

Loki’s eyebrows arched, his gaze almost a caress over her body. “May I?” he asked, voice smooth again, faintly mocking. She turned back away from him, conscious of her nakedness in a way she seldom was. She didn’t like that he could do that. That he could make her… 

She felt his eyes on her as she donned the harness, the prosthetic cock bobbing at the front as she adjusted the straps. Natasha paused, then, and narrowed her eyes. “Come here,” she said, turning.

Loki unfolded from the bed and padded over to her. “Down,” she said. Loki raised his eyebrows at her. “Don’t be cute,” she said, a little more firmly. “You want to, and you know it.” 

After a moment, he did slide gracefully down to his knees, adopting that posture that was almost a parody of submission. She took a step forward. “Finish doing up the straps,” she said.

Loki’s hands raised and slid up the sides of her legs. His eyes flicked to her cock, jutting out with just the slightest curve. “It looks good on you,” he murmured, and she couldn’t tell if it was mockery or not. 

“You think so?” She kept her voice even. His long fingers slid between her legs, working the straps around her thighs tight. She reached out and pulled his head in, lined it up with the head of her cock. Loki’s eyes flicked up to her. “Go ahead,” she said, keeping her voice cool though her heart was pounding and she could feel Loki’s fingers sliding in the slick on her inner thighs. “I’m curious to see how you-”

He tightened the last strap, and then his fingers slid inward and slipped just a little into her as he moved, mouth sliding over the synthetic material, and if she couldn’t feel it just _looking_ \- 

She wound her fingers into his hair. “It’s so _easy,_ ” she said. “You can fight it as much as you want but underneath it all this is what you’re after, isn’t it. Someone else in charge, telling you what to do. Made to be ruled.” She felt the shudder run through him, his head bowed as his fingers fucked into her, and she held his head steady as she thrust the strap-on further into his mouth. His body spasmed, the faint strangled sound of him choking beautiful to her ears. 

Natasha released his head and planted her hands on his shoulders, shoved him back hard. He half fell back on his hands, coughed raggedly. His eyes went up to her face, though, and she drank in the expressiveness of his naked face, his masks stripped away. The feeling of giddy power was almost overwhelming. 

“You glow when you’re angry, do you know that? All that _rage._ ” His voice was faintly roughened, but the control was back in it. A smirk touched his lips and he lifted his left hand to his mouth, the stroke of his tongue along fingers glistening slightly with her arousal patently obscene. “Anger and passion you keep closed down and smothered under your hard, protective, _brittle_ shell-”

“You think I’m brittle?” She took a step toward him as he sat up. “I could break you into little pieces. Shatter you down into little wretched, pathetic, worthless shards until you were begging me for a little mercy. You know it.” She watched his eyes, the slight flicker of sudden want even as they glazed slightly.

“Do I?” He didn’t sound it, though. She could almost be impressed. 

“You’d take it,” she said, lowering her voice, making it soft and silky. “You might even want it. _Do_ you?”

His laugh was strange, a little wild, and he moved quickly, rolled to his feet and pulled her in with his hands on her hips. The slender, almost sharp lines of his body almost pressed against her for a moment, his skin strangely cool and faintly electric- “You have a _filthy_ imagination, my dear.” His fingers trailed down her spine and she jerked and then snapped her hand out, grabbed his balls and squeezed just enough. He stilled, though the only sound he made was a quiet hiss. 

“I’m not your dear,” she said, coldly. 

“It would seem not.” She could just hear the strain in his voice. A glance down, though, showed that his erection hadn’t waned. She tugged downwards, just a little, and his whole body went rigid with a faint “ah.”

“That’s not a proper response.” She couldn’t keep her lips from curling, the feeling of power and arousal a warm, heavy feeling in her belly. “I’m curious, suddenly. How much _would_ you let me do to you?” She let her nails dig into velvety skin, just a little. 

Loki shuddered. “You would run out of ideas long before you could do any real damage to me.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” She released him and stepped back. The way he swayed slightly made her smile. “Get on the bed. I don’t want to have to tell you twice.” 

For a moment, she thought he’d push, and for a dizzy moment she almost wanted him to. But he went, stretched out on the bed, and she followed, her heart pounding. Natasha climbed up, swung her leg over so she was straddling his narrow hips, and stayed there for a moment, waiting. 

“Don’t you know what you’re doing?” Loki murmured under her. 

“Oh, yes,” Natasha said, making her voice perfectly clear, masking her eagerness. She ran her hand over the slight curve of his ass, the muscle just under the skin tensing beneath her hand. His hips lifted under her, though she thought the motion was unconscious. “So I guess the question is…how nice do you want me to be?” 

“If I wanted kindness,” Loki said, and there was a harsh note in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come to you.” 

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Natasha murmured, lined up her cock, and drove her hips forward. 

The sound he made was glorious. His body bucked under her, one of his hands clawing into the bedsheets. Her whole body throbbed as though in answer, a fresh surge of wetness dampening her thighs, her skin humming with exquisite awareness. 

She rocked a little, and then pushed forward again. He seemed torn between pulling away and pushing back into her. Natasha planted her hands on his hips to brace herself, and could feel him almost quivering with tension. “How’s that feel,” she asked, too quietly. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you,” Loki murmured, then paused. “Ah, wait, did you ever-”

Natasha pushed another few inches in, thrilled to both feel and hear the low, almost desperate moan of pain from under her. His entire body shuddered again, like he could hardly even hold it in, and Natasha took a moment to catch her own breath. She slid her hand between her own legs, teasing herself closer to orgasm, but she pulled away before finishing and this time pulled her hips back. 

The harsh inhale sucked through Loki’s teeth made her cunt throb. She couldn’t keep back a smile. “You’re not even making this hard for me,” she murmured. “I hardly have to do-” She thrust again, this time not stopping, pushing the plastic cock all the way in to the hilt, splitting him open, watching his back and ass tense and relax as he tried to accommodate it without making a sound. “ _Anything._ ” Loki’s head dropped down, forehead braced against one of his arms as his spine curved and he failed to quite hold in the harsh, panting breaths as she seated herself fully against him, her hips flush to his. “Go on,” she murmured, the tone of her voice poisonous. “Let it out. If it helps.” 

“What,” he said, after a few panting moments, and his voice was definitely ragged, “you’re not done already, are you?”

“Not even a little.” She withdrew and then pistoned her hips forward in one sharp, angled thrust. He made a sound like the air had been punched out of him, an “unh-” not swallowed quickly enough as his back arched and his hands clenched. The curve of his spine showed through nearly translucent skin. Natasha wished she could see his face. 

“You like that?” she said, and rolled her hips to push the strap-on that little bit deeper. “I keep wondering, what gets you off harder? Is it just pain or is it the humiliation?” She pulled out slightly and thrust again, to the sound of a slightly strangled gasp. “To put it another way – is it that I’m _fucking_ you or is it that _I’m_ fucking you?”

Loki panted twice, shallowly, and she watched the muscles of his back tense, ripple. “You call this a – _ah_ – fucking? Perhaps I ought to-”

She slid her hand around and took him in hand, tugged not gently. His voice cut off in his throat and she almost felt his cock throb in her hand. “Want more?” she asked, making her voice gentle, sweet, hoping he couldn’t hear the thickness brought on by the slick, wet heat between her legs. 

“You – mm – know the answer to that,” he said, voice controlled, but she could hear the strain it cost. Natasha snapped her hand out to grab a handful of black hair and yank his head back until he made a small sound of strain, barely audible, and of course he could break her hold at any time, but- 

But he _wouldn’t._ And that was the thrill. 

“I want you to say it.” She felt him shudder. It could have been hate or lust. It didn’t matter.

“That word in your voice – _fucking_ – is so deliciously harsh, so deliberately vulgar, do you think you can shock – _oh-_ ” She altered the angle of her thrust and his body bucked under her, his gasp harsh and pained. She felt his cock straining in her hand, his shoulders tensing and relaxing. He panted, and she drank that in, felt a surge of wet, slick heat between her legs. 

“Why do you even try?” she asked, tugging his head back just a little further. “I know it’s not what you want, you can pretend whatever you like with anyone else but with me – I know.” She rocked her hips slightly, then drew back and thrust in another sharp motion. The sound he made was almost a whine, squirming under her, his muscles rigid and trembling. All that power, she thought a little dizzily, and how _easily_ dismantled. Her hand around his cock squeezed once. His hips jerked against her hand, trying to thrust, and he made a pained sound. 

“—please,” he said suddenly, the word sounding dragged out of him. His hands clenched in the sheets, clawed spasmodically at them. “More, give me-” his voice broke off into a ragged sounding pant. _Good enough,_ she thought, her own arousal an insistent throb of need only growing.

She released his hair and moved her free hand to his back to brace herself as she set a brutal, punishing pace, each driving thrust in accompanied by a short sound from Loki underneath her, not quite a cry, and the ripple of the muscles of his back. His cock was hot and heavy in her hand, seemed to jump with each thrust, her hand slick with pre-come. Natasha shifted her hips again, changed the angle, punched in, and this time he did cry out, short and sharp, his whole body going rigid. Again, and his muscles wound tighter until she thought he might snap. His breathing was ragged, high pitched panting.

 _I could push him further,_ she thought, a little wildly. Her whole body felt like it was pounding with her heart. _Take him apart so completely-_

She tightened her hand and slid it up his shaft, swiped her thumb over the head of his penis. She drew her hips back and thrust forward once more, squeezed the cluster of nerves just under the head. His body bent under her, every muscle seizing at once as he came, violently, with a sound almost like pain. 

Natasha released him and pulled out, undid the straps of the harness and cast it aside. “Over,” she said ruthlessly, slapping his leg, and he made a small sound but rolled to his back and looked up at her. His eyes were wide, white visible almost all around the green. He looked broken open, ruined, debauched – and satiated. There was something almost like awe, she thought as he looked at her, before he blinked. Body still quivering, his chest heaving, limbs loose at his sides. _Hers._

She sat back on her heels, knees apart, and sought her clit with her own fingers. His eyes, dazed as they were, followed her hand. “Ah,” he said, half breathed whimper, half protest, and she smiled at him. 

“If you want to touch me,” she said, keeping her voice brutally cool, not sure how she could when her whole body felt like one void of need, “you’d better ask.” 

“I don’t want to touch you,” he said, eyes moving up to her face, intent even as the rest of him looked thoroughly well-fucked. She raised her eyebrows, rocked her hips into her own hand. His tongue flicked out, just the briefest of movements. “I want to taste you.” His mouth flickered, a little toward a smile, as he added, “Please.”

Natasha’s body quivered. She remembered the swirl of his tongue. _I remember the tang of your arousal,_ he’d said, and she pulled her hand away and climbed up his prone body, knees to either side of his head. 

His hands grabbed her ass and pulled her cunt to his mouth, his tongue plunging into her with obscene eagerness, like he’d never been hungry for anything else. His dark head nuzzled between her thighs, deft tongue seeking her pleasure, the grip of his hands digging into the muscles of her ass leaving enough give for her to move, guide his mouth where she wanted it. 

Lips and tongue worked at her, teasing, suckling, licking, something almost frantic to it. It didn’t take much to push her over the edge, the tip of Loki’s tongue just flicking her clit sending her crashing, finally, into orgasm as his fingers kneaded into her ass. She half collapsed over him, hips rutting into his face as she quivered through the spasms of climax. 

It ebbed slowly. Half dazed, she let him shift her back so she was resting on his chest, legs splayed to either side of his head. Loki’s hands slid up to her waist, tracing the lines of her body as she slowly slid back down into afterglow. His eyes were closed, his face smeared from his nose down with wetness from her cunt. His hands on her were almost gentle. 

She pushed them away and got up, moved away from the bed. He didn’t move, sprawled like a broken doll on her bed, the sound of his breathing still loud and harsh. Her legs felt wobbly and weak, her body still humming with a pleasant flood of endorphins. 

_What have you done,_ she thought, vaguely, but it was half-hearted at best. His head was dropped back, throat extended, and she thought again of just ending it. Killing him. 

She wondered how much he’d fight her. 

“Are you satisfied?” she asked, lowly. He seemed to shudder. 

“Yes,” he said, after a moment, almost a whisper. There was something strange in his voice again. 

“Good,” she said, her voice clipped. “Cause we’re done.” 

His eyes opened and Loki’s head turned just slightly, enough to look at her. His eyes, still glazed, were just clear enough. “Oh, no,” he said, too quietly. “We’ve just begun.” His smile at her was slow and lazy, eyes still half closed, and it sent a tingle down her spine.


End file.
